


Girls Who Are Boys (Who Like Boys To Be Girls Who Do Boys Like They're Girls Who Do Girls Like They're Boys); or, What Happened To Andy Hurley One Crazy-Ass Morning

by jenish (phizzle)



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: M/M, Sexswap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-08-25
Updated: 2006-08-25
Packaged: 2017-10-08 02:25:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/71722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phizzle/pseuds/jenish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Beta by clumsygyrl.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Girls Who Are Boys (Who Like Boys To Be Girls Who Do Boys Like They're Girls Who Do Girls Like They're Boys); or, What Happened To Andy Hurley One Crazy-Ass Morning

**Author's Note:**

> Beta by clumsygyrl.

It had been three minutes since Andy woke up with breasts.

In the past, he'd gotten used to a pair of them being around when he opened his eyes, but before now, he hadn't been on the other end of them. It was a little disconcerting. He kept cupping them, just to make sure he wasn't hallucinating.

He hadn't got up yet. There was an arm flung across his stomach, a nose buried in his neck, warm breath on his skin. He didn't like to disturb Joe, not while he was sleeping. So he just kept on cupping. Hm. Interesting.

Then, of course, his eyes slid lower under the covers, and okay, the rest of him seemed to be female also. Well. This was. Um.

Joe made that snuffling sound that indicated he was waking up. He slid the arm that was across Andy's hip further up, and connected slowly with the new curve. He went still.

"Uh," he said. Cautiously, he felt higher, and oh yes, that was nipple and these were breasts and his hand jumped away in a split second. "Shit," he whispered. "My boyfriend is going to kill me."

"I _am_ your boyfriend, nutjob." Andy flicked his forehead. Joe opened his eyes and squinted.

"Huh?"

"I'm Andy. Remember me, Andy?"

"I … remember a _guy_ called Andy who I went to bed with last night. Who was … wearing those pj bottoms, and um." He squinted closer. "Andy?"

Andy rolled his eyes and kissed him, quickly. Joe licked his lips. "See?" Andy said, leaning back.

"Okay, you taste like him, and you. You look like oh my God, Andy, you're a girl, what the fuck?"

"A very good question," Andy agreed. "I only woke up a minute ago, and, well, boobs."

"Are they – can I touch them?"

Andy's eyes went skyward. "Joe, come on, of course you can." His eyes stayed skyward because, well, Joe was rather good with his hands and oh so _that's_ what that feels like. He arched a little.

"Andy, this is. Um, this is so weird, but _nice_, and is all of you girl?" He rolled on top of Andy, slow smile spreading. "I guess so," he said, and leaned down to kiss him. Andy arched up, one hand pushing down his pyjama bottoms, knees bent, and this was _weird_ and he broke the kiss to lay a hand on Joe's chest.

"I don't, Joe, I," he floundered. "Joe, I woke up with _breasts_ this morning."

"Yeah," Joe nodded. "Can we figure out what happened after we take the other girl parts for a test-drive?"

Andy breathed in, and out, and grinned. "Good idea," he said, and rolled them over so he was on top.

~

Pete stared at them. Patrick's mouth was hanging open. "Yeah," Andy nodded. He looked at the floor, because the way they were looking at him was really starting to freak him out.

"Uh. Joe?" Patrick seemed to find his voice. "How did this happen?"

"No idea. We just woke up this morning, and, well. He's a girl." Joe indicated Andy's new curves. Not all that much had changed; his facial hair was gone, his weight was a little more distributed around his hips than his chest (though, okay, that was pretty nicely filled-out too, and where had that _come_ from?) and his jeans fit differently. His shirts strained across the chest, but other than that, he looked pretty much the same. He shifted again, uncomfortable, eyes on him.

"Wait." Pete seemed almost to be waking up, or coming out of a trance. "Didn't something like this happen to Mikey a couple of months back? Gerard called me to see if I knew any way of changing him back. Why does everyone come to me with shit like this?" He shook his head in the time-honoured Impression Of Wet Dog move.

"Because … you're Pete?" Joe hazarded. "And you know weird shit?"

"Very helpful, asshole. Okay, it is far too early for this. I need coffee."

"Hey," Joe murmured, as Pete and Patrick made entirely too much of a show of bustling around with the kettle, "you okay?"

"I'm a _girl_," Andy pointed out.

"Well." Joe's smile found the curve of Andy's ear. "I kinda like it."

"Mm," Andy unconsciously angled himself closer. "It has its advantages." He sighed. "But they look at me like." He didn't finish.

"They'll get over it. With caffeine."

"Speaking of caffeine, that's a very good idea." Andy squared his shoulders. "Hello, day. I am Andy."

Joe laughed. "You dork. But now, breakfast. There are donuts, and they have my name on them."

"Alright," Pete said, when he had imbibed enough caffeine and sugar to feel vaguely human. "I'm calling Gerard."

"He'll know what worked with Mikey, right?" Patrick asked. He shot a look at Andy. "How … I mean, what's it feel like?"

"Kinda like normal, only shaped different," Andy snapped. "Would you please stop looking at me like I just crawled out of the swamp?"

"Sorry." Patrick blushed, and Pete just grinned.

"You haven't changed a bit," he said, ruffling Andy's hair and pulling his sidekick out of his pocket. He walked out onto the porch as he dialled.

"You're kidding," was all Gerard said when Pete explained. "No fucking _way_." Pete held the phone away from his ear and waited for Gerard to stop laughing. It took a good two minutes. "Okay, okay. But seriously. Andy?"

"Yes, Andy. Quit smirking, Way, and tell me how you changed Mikey back, okay?"

There was a pause. "Uh," Gerard said, "they never told me, exactly. Frank just said I really didn't want to know, and I left it."

Pete sighed. "Can I talk to Frankie, then? Or Mikey?"

"Sure, I'll …" There were muffled sounds that were similar to laughter.

"Pete?" It was Mikey's voice.

"Yeah. Look, you've gotta tell me how you got your dick back, because my drummer has tits and it's weird." He paused. "Hi, by the way."

"Hey." Mikey's voice was soft, and Pete could never help smiling when he heard it. "Uh, see, the thing with that is, I kind of. Um." He mumbled something. All Pete could tell was that it had vowels and consonants in it, and they were in some sort of order.

"Mikey, what? Speak up, okay? I can't hear you."

A sigh. "I had sex with Frankie," he said, louder. "And a couple of days later, it came back."

"What came back?"

"My _dick_, asshole."

"Right. So you bang Frankie, and two days later, all's male that ends male?"

"Pretty much."

"Okay. Does it have to be Frankie, or can it be –"

"It can be anyone. Iero doesn't have a magical dick, Pete, it's just something to do with a particular kind of friction. I think."

"Okay. Thanks, Mike."

"You're welcome. And tell Andy you're welcome, too. And good luck."

"Well?" Patrick asked as Pete returned to the kitchen. "What's the cure?"

"Sex," Pete said, simply. "Something about friction, apparently. Mikey banged Frank, and two days later, penis city."

"Oh," Andy said. "But we already did that." He looked at Joe.

Pete smirked. "Oh, really?"

Joe fixed him with a stare. "Come on. You wake up with your boyfriend _and_ tits, are you telling me you don't hit that?"

Andy folded his arms. "So I'm a 'that' to 'hit' now, am I?"

Joe blinked. "Always were, Hurley. You still have the sweetest ass this side of the Atlantic. It's actually kind of sweeter now." He tilted his head, examining the view down Andy's back.

"Okay, guys, enough. Looks like Andy's just got another couple of days to wait it out, right? Then he's a guy again?" Patrick looked at Pete, then looked at Joe and finally just dropped his eyes to the table top, and the edge of his notebook, and – basically anywhere but Andy. "So in the meantime, we somehow have to explain where our drummer has gone and who this girl is in his place."

"Illness?" Pete suggested. "And will you look him in the fucking eye, Patrick, it's driving me nuts. It's just Andy."

Patrick finally did look at Andy then. He smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, man. It's just weird it not being just guys any more."

"But I _am_ a guy," Andy protested.

"Uh, I beg to differ," Joe put in. "And I have proof. Or I did, an hour ago."

"And keep that up and you won't. Ever. Again."

"You're kind of a bitch, Hurley," Patrick said. He was grinning. That was more like it. Andy blew him a kiss.

~

It wasn't really worth him getting any clothes that fit better, not for two days. So he just wore what he normally did, only it hung differently on him. He didn't bother with a bra, though after one rehearsal he thought about getting one for onstage. That fucking _hurt_ without some kind of support.

"Good idea," Joe said when Andy put the suggestion to him. "Do I get to come to the fitting?"

"You _are_ the fitting." Andy handed him a tape measure. "I need to know what size I am," he said to Joe's blank look. "We can go get one tomorrow, but I have to know what to get."

"Yeah, I know, but – what do I do? I mean, where …" He held the tape measure up. Andy rolled his eyes and closed the bedroom door.

"I did this for a girlfriend once," he said, pulling his shirt over his head, "it's not _that_ hard." He guided Joe's hands. "Under, and across, and. And Joe, stop groping me, I'm trying to _measure_ here."

"Yes, but you're trying to measure your _tits_ and my hands are near them. What am I _supposed_ to do?"

"Ass," Andy shot at him, but noted down the numbers. That – okay, yes, that did feel nice, what Joe was doing now, and – "Joe," he said, leaning forward, leaning their foreheads together, "isn't this weird for you? I mean. I'm a –"

"You're Andy," Joe cut in. "You're still Andrew Hurley, you've just got some … perks for a couple of days. Think of it like a vacation from your dick."

"But I didn't _want_ a vacation from my dick," Andy protested.

"Hey." Joe kissed him, and it was soft. "You're okay. You'll be okay. It'll come back in a day or two, don't worry about it."

Andy sighed. "Make it better," he said. _That's got to be the hormones talking_, he thought, wishing for his testosterone. Joe put his arms around him.

"You're not going to turn into a girl on me, are you?" Joe asked. Andy thought about hitting him.

"I _am_ a girl, asshole," he reminded him, pressing his boobs up to Joe's chest to prove it.

"No you're not. The parts don't make the girl, it's the acting like a chick that does. So stop it."

Andy deflated. "Okay," he said. "O_kay_, I'm going to stop – I'm not going to freak out about this any more. Just a few days, right? Then I'll be back to normal."

"That's more like it," Joe grinned. "Now," he said, shifting his weight and pressing closer, "there's something I haven't done in _months_ and right now, I have the opportunity again, so why don't you," he sank, slowly, to his knees, "lie back and forget about not having a penis?" He stoked his palms over Andy's hips and pressed his lips to Andy's crotch. Andy felt pressure through the material and twitched.

"You have the best ideas," he breathed, walking backwards until his legs hit the bed. He flopped onto it, Joe still kneeling, Joe reaching and unbuttoning his jeans, Joe slipping them down his thighs and pressing kisses there, Joe …

Andy closed his eyes. The sex this morning had been hurried, bewildered, _weird_, but this was. This was none of those things. Joe was taking his time working his mouth across Andy's skin and _oh _fuck_ so this is what this feels like_. Andy spread his legs further as Joe's tongue began flicking at – dude, was that his clitoris? _Holy _shit_, no wonder girls like it so much._ Andy arched, and Joe smiled and hummed.

He took it slow, sucking and flicking his tongue, and then – oh, fuck – he moved his tongue lower, and it was _inside_ him, and it felt fucking _fantastic_. Andy twitched and stifled a moan against the back of his hand. Joe kept moving, fucking Andy with his tongue, and returning to suck and lap at his clitoris, and Andy was shaking and wet and Joe was fucking _good_ at this and when Andy came, his whole body rocked with the spasms and he spread his legs as wide as they would go and he was, and he was still wet and he didn't want it to stop and _fuck_.

He opened his eyes when he felt Joe's tongue leave his body, and opened his mouth to protest, but Joe was yanking his pants off and practically jumping onto the bed. He kissed Andy, hard, and he tasted _good_, and then he was rolling on top and sliding inside him, and Andy bucked, biting Joe's lip. "_Yes_," he gasped as Joe moved inside him. "Fuck, _yes_."

"That was really fucking hot, when you came," Joe grunted, thrusting into him _over_ and _over_ and Andy bent one knee and hooked his leg over Joe's waist.

"Oh fuck, keep doing that," Andy moaned, lifting his hips to meet Joe's rhythm. Joe obliged, mouth on Andy's neck, and he could feel it building again, and he squeezed his eyes shut and wrapped his other leg around Joe's waist and suddenly he felt like he kinda had to pee but then oh fucking _fuck_, then his mouth fell open as a wave of pure pleasure rolled right _through_ him. He twitched, and the air escaped his throat with a high sound. Joe burst against him three seconds later, landing exhausted on his chest.

"Fuck yeah," Joe whispered, trying to get his breath back. Andy didn't say anything; it was a couple of minutes before he could speak.

"I," was all he could say, "I think you hit my G spot."

"Awesome," Joe mumbled, and fell asleep.

~

Andy opened his eyes the next morning and did a quick stock check. Boobs, two (2). Penis, zero (0). Boyfriend … Andy looked over.

And stopped. Just to make sure he wasn't dreaming, he blinked rapidly and pinched himself. Then he pinched Joe, who made a sleepy sound of protest but didn't wake up.

"Joe," Andy hissed, poking Joe's arm. "Joe. Joseph. _Joe_."

"Whztd?" Joe rolled face-up and squinted at him. "What the fuck, man?"

"Joe, look down."

"You still have tits, I see."

Andy rolled his eyes. "Not at me, ass, at _you_."

Joe looked. "Oh. What the – oh, _shit_."

"Maybe it's contagious. Somehow," Andy offered. "Like a sexually transmitted thing, or something."

"What, so that's how you got this, is it? And Mikey?"

"Alright, maybe it isn't then. But I don't know, Joe! I just woke up, and –"

"And _I_ have tits too. What the _fuck_, Andrew?"

"How am I supposed to know? I'm just as clueless as you, remember?"

"What the _shit_ happened and will someone please tell me I just smoked too much pot because I have _tits_ right now and what the _fuck_?"

Andy folded his arms. "Right, so I get the talk about how the parts don't make the girl and all is fine, but when _you_ wake up with boobs you get to freak out. Oh, that's nice."

Joe squinted at him. "I – fuck you, Hurley."

"You did," Andy reminded him. "And you'll be back to normal in a couple of days, so calm the fuck down, okay?"

"Calm the … Andy, this did not happen to Frank, did it? What if this is different to the thing with Mikey? What if this _stays_?"

Andy took Joe's face between his hands. Joe's voice shut off and he looked at Andy, helpless. "Joe," Andy said, calmly, "shut up. This will all be over in a few days. I don't know how this happened, or why it happened to both of us, but it will be _gone_ soon." He smiled. "Besides, you're a hot girl."

Joe relaxed, cautiously. "Not nearly as hot as you, my god, those _tattoos_." Andy blushed a little, and Joe relaxed further. "Okay. Okay, we're going to go downstairs and have breakfast and this will all be over soon." He sighed. "Maybe we'd better cancel tonight's show after all."

Andy rubbed his back. "Maybe. Come on, let's talk to Pete and Patrick, see what they say."

Patrick's first reaction was to drop his head into his hands. "How did – I mean – is it -"

"We don't know," Andy said, sitting next to him and putting an arm around him. "But it's just us, okay? And we'll be back to normal in a few days."

"I know." Patrick looked at him like he was crazy, and Andy relaxed. "Sorry for freaking out yesterday. It was just, I mean come on. Shit like this doesn't _happen_."

"I have a pair of tits that say it does," Joe retorted, rummaging in the bread bin. His hair was longer and it was getting in his eyes. He pushed it back impatiently.

"Okay, yeah. Embracing it. I'm embracing it," Patrick said, taking long breaths. "What do you want to do about the show tonight?" he asked, suddenly himself again. Andy squeezed him quickly and moved over to help Joe with the toast.

"We were thinking maybe cancel it," he sighed. "Where's Pete? We should talk to him about this."

"I don't think he's up yet." Patrick prodded his pancakes with his fork. "Either that or he's walking Hemingway."

Pete stumbled into the kitchen ten minutes later, clocked the three of them at the table and said, "I need sugar. When did Joe turn into a girl too?"

"This morning," Joe told him. "Woke up and, boobs. We were thinking of cancelling tonight's show, what do you think?"

"I think it's a good idea, unless you want to just say we got some really hot temps in," Pete shrugged, searching the cupboards for donuts. "Patrick, didn't we go to Dunkin's yesterday?"

"Three drawers to your left, Pete," Patrick supplied before he could ask.

"Right. Thanks." He found a jelly-filled and sat down. "So," he said, "you two are chicks, huh?" His smile turned to a grin. "Can I watch?"

"Fuck off, Pete," Andy rolled his eyes.

~

Patrick found Pete that night, pressed against Andy and Joe's bedroom door, and dragged him away to play him the almost-final cuts for the album. Even through the ceiling, it was hard to miss the sounds of several orgasms. "Man, I can't believe they're having sex up there and I don't even get pictures," Pete slumped.

"You're – I'm not even going to _try_ and come up with the word for what you are, Pete," Patrick rolled his eyes.

When they got up the next morning and found Andy and Joe, both shirtless and definitely male, making out against the kitchen counter, Patrick reached around them for the cereal box and Pete looked vaguely disappointed. "So I guess you're guys again," he said, going to the fridge for the milk.

Andy pointed to the table; Pete looked, and under some sheets of paper that had been there so long half of the writing on them was obscured by coffee stains, was a small pile of polaroids.

"You guys are the _best_," Pete said, taking the pictures and disappearing out of the room.

Patrick looked incredulously at them.

"We drew on Pete while he was sleeping," Andy explained. "And took pictures. Just the first one's of us. I'm kind of amazed he didn't wake up when we washed it off, but then, kinda not."

Patrick was about to say something, but he stopped when they heard the laughter.

"We drew breasts on him," Joe explained, chewing around a grin. Pete appeared and flicked them both on the back of the head with the pictures.

"Next time you're taking better pictures. Or letting me watch. Or –"

"Don't even say it," Andy warned him, flicking cereal at his hair.


End file.
